


A Moment and a Year

by librisdedita



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/F, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-08
Updated: 2013-01-08
Packaged: 2017-11-24 04:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/630632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/librisdedita/pseuds/librisdedita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia was a good friend, when she wanted to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Moment and a Year

It hadn’t, really, been Allison’s favourite year.

Well, that was an understatement, what with the whole oh, your family are werewolf hunters and your boyfriend’s a werewolf and by the way your aunt killed the entire Hale family and is now dead, oh and your mother killed herself and your grandfather manipulated you into a near-psycho.

Yes. Understatement.

And she did love Scott, she really did, but she couldn’t cope with this. Not with her world falling apart, and being pulled to one side by him and to the other by her father.

Her father. Bereft, now, of everything but her.

She couldn’t betray him. Couldn’t continue dating Scott as if nothing had happened. She had to be there for him. To cook, and to smile, and to cry with him when necessary. They had to be strong for the world outside, but here – they had each other, and that was all. She couldn’t jeopardise that.

Besides… the sex was good, sure, and she was very fond of Scott, but at times like this you needed someone who would listen. Who would understand. Not who would pour out troubles on you and then drag you into yet more supernatural shit.

So she took a deep breath and called him.

“Scott? We need to talk.”

Most people, she thought bitterly, would have got the message from that alone. Not Scott. She had to spell it out for him, over and over. 

“But Allison, I love you.”

“But I’m always there for you! I always listen – I love you!”

“But I want to help you!”

“But…Allison.”

It was heartbreaking to hear him so upset. It really was. But it had to be done.

Lydia came over, like the good best friend she was, and held Allison while she cried, listened while she sobbed out how much she loved Scott, how much she loved her dad, how she’d loved and admired Kate and how she missed her mum. She stroked her hair and hugged her, telling her it was okay, Lydia’s here, it’s okay, Lydia will keep you safe, Lydia will make it right, no matter how long it takes.  
In hindsight, Allison really ought to have realised from that alone what was going on. But she was somewhat distracted, with all that had been going on. Her dad buried himself in work, paperwork and filing and research, as if that could block everything else out. She brought him coffee and tea and cookies she’d bought (since all hers burnt), and called him out for meals, and made sure he went to bed at night. Otherwise, she was on her own, in this huge house, working and cooking and trying to keep everything moderately clean, to remember how her mother had made it all tick.

It looked simple, running a house. Allison found out, in the weeks and months that passed, that it really wasn’t.

She’d never really cooked before, so everything went wrong. After about three weeks, and the achievement of somehow burning soup, she burst into tears and called Lydia for help. Lydia came round that same night with various cookery books, calmed her down, and promised to come round each night to help her until Allison had got the hang of cooking.

Lydia usually ended up staying for dinner as well, ostensibly since she’d helped cook it and so deserved to eat it too. The girls would talk somewhat as they cooked, and from what Lydia let slip occasionally, Allison learned that it wasn’t particularly pleasant at her home either, with her parents preferring to fight or ignore each other. 

Allison’s cooking improved slowly, and even won a surprised smile from her dad the day she presented him with roast chicken and stuffing. She treasured the memory.

Lydia’s visits ended up being longer and longer. Allison gathered that she’d broken up with Jackson (again) and preferred Allison’s house to her own. There might have been a bit of compassion in there as well. You never knew with Lydia.

They ended up studying together – which did wonders for Allison’s grades, having been steadily declining since her mother’s death – and then watching stupid television until Lydia went home. And if Allison happened to cry every so often, Lydia didn’t object. Just hugged her and listened and murmured soft things.

In hindsight – always 20/20 – Allison really was slow on the uptake.

Once, when Allison had been having a particularly bad evening, they were still watching Mamma Mia! (Lydia’s patent feel-good film; they’d seen it an awful lot recently) at 11pm, when she looked over at Lydia and noticed she’d fallen asleep where she sat on the bed. She didn’t have the heart to wake her, just called her parents to say she’d be staying the night, and tucked her in bed, settling herself down next to her. Lydia made sleepy noises, and wriggled until she’d got an arm round Allison and her head tucked into the back of Allison’s neck.

Allison slept that night, for the first time since her mother had died.  
After that, Lydia stayed the night more often than not. Allison’s father didn’t seem to object. Allison never found out what Lydia’s parents thought.

Lydia’s clothes built up in Allison’s wardrobe, and her makeup took over Allison’s dressing table.

A month later, Lydia asked her out.

“Whaaaaa?”

“You heard me, sweetie.”

“But…but…”

“Come on, Allison. I seem to practically live at your house nowadays, and we even sleep together. Half the school thinks we’re dating anyway.”

Well, that would certainly explain some of the looks she’d been getting.

“But…but…Why me, Lydia? I mean, you’re my best friend, I think the world of you, but…but…”

“Honey, I’ve wanted to date you ever since you first came to our school, but first you were all lovey-dovey with Scott – seriously nauseating stuff – and then there was breaking up, and getting back together, and your aunt, and your mother, and then you being a psycho bitch for a while – not that I minded; part of the grieving process, I know – and maybe now’s the best time we’ll get.”

Allison remembered that first breakup; Lydia holding her while she cried and telling her that Scott was nowhere near good enough for her.

“And before you ask, yes, I’m bisexual, and I’m fairly sure you are too.”

“How do you know? And did Jackson know? And why me? I mean, I’m flattered, because you’re smart and pretty and really kind sometimes, and awesome and stuff…”

“Way you looked at Erica, hon. Tells are simple when you know about them.”

Allison nodded. Of course Lydia’s gaydar would be perfect.

“Hah. Jackson wouldn’t spot anything that didn’t directly involve him.”

True, true.

“And – sweetie, when did you last look in a mirror? You’re gorgeous, and so nice it’s almost sickening, and I think you’re fairly clever really, though you tend to hide it. Plus, you can use a bow. Always a turn-on, knowing how to kill and maim.”

Allison was struck dumb.

Lydia gave up trying to explain and kissed her instead.

Much more satisfying for both parties.


End file.
